


Ship Me Saturday/Ship Sailing Mondays Drabbles

by PennyKelly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15565071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennyKelly/pseuds/PennyKelly
Summary: A place for me to post my "Ship Me Saturday" and "Ship Sailing Mondays" Drabbles for The Fairest of the Rare. See note's on individual chapters for prompt and pairings.





	1. Sunglasses

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Written for the August 4 prompt. Pairing=Charmione.
> 
> Prompt: Do these sunglasses say ‘I’m a movie star’ or ‘I’m hiding my dark circles because I’m perpetually tired’?”
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter or its related properties.

**Sunglasses**

Charlie groaned when the covers were tugged unceremoniously from his barely awake form. The sudden filtering of light through his eyelids kicking off the beginnings of a migraine. 

 

“Sod off, woman. I’m not getting out of this bed,” he grumbled, pulling a pillow over his face and muffling the last part.

 

“Yes, you are. You promised me we’d have brunch with my parents today. Now up!” Hermione plucked the pillow from atop his face and leaned in for a good morning kiss.

 

“I don’t remember making any such agreement…” he grumbled, pulling her back to him for a second, longer kiss.

 

“Stop it. We don’t have time. And you did too promise. Now up!” She pushed his face away with the palm of her hand when he made to get her a third time, sitting up and wrapping his arm around her waist.

 

“You’re a bossy little thing…” he sighed as he dragged himself out of bed, watching the way she nervously tried to put on her earrings with trembling hands.

 

“Come here, love…” he sidled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly and meeting her eyes in the mirror above her dresser.

 

“You aren’t nervous?” She asked, biting her bottom lip.

 

“Why would I be nervous? It’s not like they haven’t been after us for years to finally get it together and get married. They’ll be elated, I’m sure.” He laughed, kissing her temple when she observed her new engagement ring with a soft smile. 

 

He reached over her shoulder and picked her sunglasses off the top of her jewelry box, sighing contentedly as they canceled out some of the light. 

 

“Do these sunglasses say ‘I’m a movie star’ or ‘I’m hiding my dark circles because I’m perpetually tired’?” he joked, letting her go when she swatted at him with an exaggerated eye roll. 

 

“I think they say ‘I’m hungover even though my fiance told me not to drink last night, and because my sunglasses are constantly getting crushed by dragons I had to steal hers’ Go get yourself a sobering draught please, it will help take the edge off.” She sighed and shoved him out of the room so she could finish getting ready.

 

“Hey!” He called, popping his head back around the doorframe and tossing her glasses to her.

 

“Hey yourself…” 

 

“You said ‘fiance’.” A big stupid grin filled his face as he stared at her. She couldn’t help the equally goofy grin that crossed her own face she took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly.

 

“It’s about damn time.” She teased, pushing back into the hallway. 


	2. Predictable

**AN:** Written for the  August 8 prompt. Pairing = Charmione.

 

**Prompt:** "We knew what we were getting into when we started this. We always knew this would happen."

 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or profit from Harry Potter or its related properties.

  
  


**Predictable**

 

“Charlie?” Hagrid started, not liking something he was seeing over Charlie’s head. 

 

“Yeah?” he followed the half-giant’s gaze to see what the trouble was. He groaned inwardly at the sight. There was Hermione Granger, his youngest brother’s ex-girlfriend, swaying drunkenly and giggling to a shady looking bloke on the far side of the dancefloor.

 

“Might need to sort that, mate. Not sure she’s sober enough to be handling herself.” Hagrid cautioned as Charlie was already getting to his feet.

 

“Hermione? I’m sure she’s fine.” Ron slurred, too drunk to properly see what was going on, to begin with.

 

“Bloody hell…” Charlie mumbled as he saw her begin to strip off her shirt. 

 

“Charlie…” Hagrid started with more urgency and gesturing to the bouncer, who was rapidly making his way across the bar.

 

“Right then, looks like I’ll be keeping that one out of jail tonight,” he sighed heavily as he shoved his way to the bleary-eyed woman. Hagrid followed, bumbling to distract the bouncer as Charlie yanked Hermione’s top back down and tossed her over his shoulder. 

 

“Sorry mate didn’t realize she was taken!” the sleazy looking wizard called after them as he carried the giggling witch out to the alleyway. Upon realizing she was being removed from the party she began to squirm and beat her hands on Charlie’s back. He gripped tighter, struggling not to drop the shockingly strong woman.

 

“Put me down, Charlie!” she cried as the cold air hit them.

 

“Are you going to hex me if I do?” he grunted, desperately trying to hold her still as he tried to extricate his own wand from his jeans pocket.

 

“Bloody right I’m going to hex you!” She bellowed indignantly, sounding much like a putout toddler.

 

“Then I’m not putting you down,” he repositioned her slightly and kept an easy pace back toward Diagon Alley. She struggled for another few moments before giving up in frustration.

 

“This is embarrassing.” she sighed loudly, letting her arms fall limply down his back.

 

“No more embarrassing than you on the dance floor just now,” the mirth in his voice betrayed that he’d found the situation funnier than he did concerning.

 

“I was being friendly.” she huffed, awkwardly leaning upward so she could cross her arms.

 

“You, my sweet, we’re dangerously close to an indecent exposure charge.” he laughed, finally putting her on her feet. 

 

“I was not. You’re being ridiculous,” she put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

 

“Then explain to me what in Merlin’s name you were trying to accomplish pulling your shirt halfway off,” he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked an eyebrow at her. She blushed furiously.

 

“If you must know, he’s a tattoo artist. I’m thinking of getting one and was trying to show him where I wanted it when you swooped in and tossed me over your shoulder,” she mumbled.

 

“Well, you were giving the whole club an eyeful and I needed to get to you before the bouncer did,” he teased, making her blush furiously. 

 

“I… had not thought about that…” she admitted with a defeated sigh, accepting the small vial of sobering draught he offered her from Merlin only knew where. 

 

“‘Course you didn’t, but seven firewhiskys will do that to you… Impressive by the way,” he couldn’t help but smile at the quickly sobering witch. 

 

"We knew what we were getting into when we started this. We always knew this would happen. What were you lot thinking dragging me out with Ron like that?" she grumbled petulantly. 

 

“You’re going to have to deal with him sometimes, Hermione. And no, Hagrid and I did not know you were going to get rat-arsed and try for your own peep show. You aren't that predictable…” Charlie laughed, pulling the woman into his arms and placing a kiss on the top of her head when she tried to squirm away. 

 

“What if I don’t want to deal with him?” She leaned into his chest, mellowing as he rubbed her back soothingly. 

 

“It’s going to make you and I going public awfully hard if we can’t go to family events anymore…” he tipped her face up so he could see her better.

 

“I do love your mum’s cooking…” she relented, pushing onto her toes to get eye level with him. 

 

“Damn straight,” he smirked before pecking her lips. 

 

“Want to go back to mine?” She asked hopefully. 

 

“Only if you can put on a show like that for me privately…” he teased, wrapping his arms around her waist and apparating them away with a bark of laughter when she elbowed him in the chest.

  
  



	3. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Written for the  August 18 prompt. Pairing = Fremione
> 
> Prompt: "She kissed him as though everything she’d ever been silent about finally found its way to the surface.”
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Harry Potter or its related properties.

 

 

**Secrets**

 

Hermione slipped her heels off before easing the door shut and turning to face the darkness of the kitchen. To her great relief, it did not appear that Molly was waiting up, the main floor was quiet and she could hear soft snores from upstairs. She guessed it was Arthur, which usually indicated that Molly was also asleep. He wouldn’t rest if his wife was sitting up, even if she wouldn’t let him sit up with her. She exhaled loudly and shuffled toward the pantry, hoping for a biscuit or two before making her way up to bed. 

 

“Well, weren’t we out late this evening.” she pivoted to face the doorway to the sitting room with a jump and brandished her wand. She relaxed as she took in the sight of a shirtless Fred Weasley, the faint scars from the explosion that almost killed him glowing in the dim light. 

 

“Thank Godric. I was afraid your mother was waiting up again.” Hermione put a hand to her chest and set her heels down on the counter.

 

“No, mum went to bed hours ago. Had to promise her I’d wake her if you weren’t in at a reasonable hour. Lucky for you, she never specified what she meant by ‘reasonable.’” he cocked a grin and leaned back against the counter. 

 

“Where were you anyway?” His eyes lingered on the floor, slowly making their way back to her face.

 

“Out,” she answered with a frown. 

 

“I can see that, I’m assuming you don’t wear anything that… exciting around the house. Though, I’d come over much more frequently if you did...” his voice was hungry with need as he took in the sight of her in her skimpy red dress. She blushed and tried to cover her chest with her arms. Her traitor of a body prickled with sensation at his appraisal.

 

“Why are you here anyway, Fred? Don’t you have your own flat?” she huffed, turning her attention back to her search for biscuits.

 

“I do, but my dear brother needed it to himself tonight. He and Angelina keep breaking the silencing charms.” he grimaced.

 

“Thought I’d come stay in my old room. Took me by surprise to find your stuff in there.” he shrugged, combing his eyes over her back half. 

  
  


“When everyone else moved out your mum let me pick my own room so I wouldn’t have to share with Ginny anymore. I like your room, even if it has a lingering smell of gunpowder…” she trailed off, stretching to reach an upper shelf where she thought she spied the box she was searching for. 

 

She could feel his eyes on her, burning a trail over her back and bum again. 

 

“Hmmm. Well, I suppose I’ll need to sleep elsewhere then,” he began to fiddle with the straps on her abandoned shoes. Biscuit tin in hand, she turned back to him in triumph.

 

“Or you could stay in there while I hang out down here. I haven’t been sleeping much lately,” she admitted, taking a bite out of a chocolate biscuit. 

 

“I don’t sleep much either. Not since…” he made a noncommittal gesture that she knew meant the war. She’d had suspicions that he had not bounced back as thoroughly as everyone else thought, but didn’t want to meddle.

 

“Why don’t you put on the kettle then? I’ll put something more comfortable on and we can play exploding snap or something. Unless you’d rather be alone? I can just read if that’s the case...” she suggested, not really wanting to sit alone and wait for sunup again.

 

“Sure. Did you eat? Mum said you weren’t home for dinner.”

 

“Just these,” she answered, shoving the biscuits in his hands and collecting her shoes to head upstairs.

 

A few moments later Fred heard the shower turn on and realized it would be a while before she emerged back downstairs. He abandoned the notion of tea and sought out a couple bottles of butterbeer instead. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he’d caught the scent of tobacco on Hermione when she’d walked past. And she definitely smelled lightly of whiskey. He wondered idly if she had a boyfriend she was hiding from mum, though he doubted Hermione would go for a smoker. She was forever wrinkling her nose at Charlie whenever he was home for a visit and had his pipe out. Something was going on with her and had been for months now. He couldn’t pinpoint what, but he had a feeling whatever it was important to her. He sighed heavily and set the biscuits down deciding he’d put together something more substantial. He was hungry again and figured she’d had more alcohol than food lately. He set to work assembling sandwiches and soup.

 

Hermione inspected her reflection for the tell-tale signs of bruises or ash burns, not wanting to have to explain them to Fred. Satisfied that tonight’s encounters hadn’t left a mark she pulled on sweats and an oversized top she’d found in a pile of old clothing Molly had been sorting a few days before. She wasn’t sure which one it belonged to; the red and gold practice jersey merely had Weasley emblazoned on the back. It occurred to her as she piled her hair onto her head that it must belong to one of the twins. It was too worn to be Ginny’s or Ron’s, though they also had played on the house team. It didn’t have a captain’s stripe, so probably not Charlie’s. She couldn’t remember if Bill had ever played Quidditch and knew Percy definitely hadn’t. She hoped Fred wouldn’t be upset at her borrowing it if it was his. She preferred the oversized shirts she’d been nicking over her normal pyjamas. There was something comforting about being wrapped in something that wasn’t her own. 

 

She made her way down the stairs, skipping the squeaky step midway down that was sure to alert Molly she was still awake and moving around the house. When she reemerged in the kitchen she saw Fred setting up a tray with butterbeer, tomato soup, and grilled cheese sandwiches. Her stomach growled at the smell, she’d been forgetting to eat lately.

 

“Thought you might be hungry.” Fred smiled at her and led the way to the living room. She followed, plucking the biscuits back off the counter on her way.

 

“Thanks for doing this, Fred,” she smiled softly at him, dipping half a sandwich into the soup.

 

“Mum mentioned she thought you hadn’t been eating much lately. I didn’t think much about it until I saw you in that dress.” he shrugged, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

 

“Oh?” she knit her brows in confusion. 

 

“Ginny went through phases of forgetting to eat while you three were on the hunt. Dropped a lot of weight. You look a bit like she did.” There was no judgment in his voice, which she was grateful for.

 

“I thought you liked how I looked in that dress,” she teased with a tone of mock hurt.

 

“I’m not saying I didn’t, just that you could stand to eat a bit more. It worries mum. Worries me too actually...” he shrugged. If she didn’t want to talk about why she wasn’t eating, he wouldn’t push it. 

 

She was enjoying the companionable silence as they worked their way through the food. She looked up from the last of her soup to find Fred’s eyes on her, searching for something. 

 

“What?” she crossed her arms around herself self consciously. 

 

“I think that’s my practice jersey,” he smirked at her.

 

“I’ve been nicking things from the laundry,” she blushed. 

 

“It’s alright, I don’t fit it anymore. You can keep it if you like,” he offered, plucking a couple biscuits from the tin.

 

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure who it belonged to. Your mum had a bunch of clothes I don’t think anyone wants anymore.” 

 

“I’d hate to see it tossed or turned into a rag. I thought I’d left it at school when we left, never occurred to me that mum might have it. Georgie still has his.” Fred shrugged and went back to his food.

 

They ate their biscuits in silence, leaving the butterbeer for last. The silence was surprisingly comfortable and much appreciated. Hermione missed the bliss of quietly passing the time with another person. She caught his eye as she brought the bottle to her lips, she could see the question lurking behind the usual glint of mischief. 

 

“You can ask, Fred...” she sighed, knowing what was going through his mind. 

 

“Are you okay, Granger? You’ve been keeping secrets, it isn’t like you...” he leveled his eyes at her, putting his own bottle down. She contemplated lying to him. Her eyes searched his face as she debated, worrying her bottom lip in the process. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to...” he looked away from her then, taking a long drink of his butterbeer.

 

“I’m struggling a bit these days. I just want my own space… Not that I’m not incredibly grateful for your mum and dad putting me up after the war and getting me back on my feet! I just...I’ve been working a second job your mum and dad don’t know about. I’m trying to afford my own flat. I know the three of us will likely get some money as part of our Order of Merlin recognition, but I don’t want to depend on that and my Ministry position is entry level with very few hours.” The words spilled out in a rush, her cheeks pinking in embarrassment. 

 

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing you want your own space, Hermione. Mum and dad don’t expect you to live here forever, though I don’t think mum would really mind… I understand wanting to set out on your own. Afterall, George and I did.” He smiled at her with a little wink.

 

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure anyone would understand,” she tried for a weak smile, clearly exhausted.

 

“Where have you been working that you smell like cigarettes and whiskey?” His forehead furrowed in concern as he searched her tired face. 

 

“I’ve been waitressing in a pub in Knockturn Alley. It isn’t as bad as it used to be now that the Aurors have cleaned it up,  but some of the clientele can be a bit… handsy,” she grimaced. 

 

“That certainly explains the choice in wardrobe. I was half scared you had a bloke you were hiding from everyone.” Fred nodded at her.

 

“They tip better when I dress like that. And no, no bloke hidden away, Gin would kill me if I even tried,” she joked.

 

“I don’t know, I can see you with a secret paramour with a dress like that... But I think this suits you better…” he stuck his tongue out at her in teasing, leaning in to sproing a curl that had worked its way loose of her topknot.

 

“What? In your clothes you mean?” she laughed, cheeks warming slightly at the implication. 

 

“Maybe. Not like I’m using them…” he gestured to his still naked chest, smirking when she didn’t immediately pull her eyes away.

 

“See something you like?” he waggled his brows at her when she scoffed half-heartedly.

 

“What makes you think I’d tell you if I did?” She defended, crossing her arms over her chest and staring him down. 

 

“Well, you just told me your secret when you didn’t have to. And now that Ron is out of the house you don’t have to worry about his jealousy anymore if you take up with one of his brothers… say, me, for example,” his eyes bore into hers, daring her to challenge his assertion. 

 

“I’m working two jobs and not sleeping much as it is. I’ve been a mess since the war and it’s not looking like that is going to change anytime soon, not until I can get out into my own place and take some time for myself. I’m lucky if I remember to eat most days my head is such a mess. How in the world do you think I’d have time for a boyfriend?” her cheeks flamed, her voice squeaking a bit in protest.

 

“I’m not saying you do. I’m just saying you’ve been quietly keeping these secrets for weeks now and it didn’t take long for you to open up to me tonight. Maybe you’ve got room for someone who can help you take care of you…”

 

“What do you mean help me take care of me?” her face scrunched up in confusion. 

 

“I mean… if you need a better job to help you reach your goal and get out on your own, George and I could use a hand with product testing and development. We can pay you well and you could set your own hours so you don’t have to work a second job late into the night and forget to take care of yourself. And if it so happens that I’ve had my eye on you since before you decided to start, and then stop, seeing my brother and it means I get to spend more time with you… well, then, better luck for me,” he smiled at her, watching as she processed the information. 

“I… you...Fred, do you fancy me?” Hermione’s chest tightened as the wheels rapidly turned in her mind. 

 

“More than a little. Have since school,” he admitted with a nervous swallow. 

 

“All the flirting and the ogling the last few months… that was real? Not some sort of joke?” He nodded in confirmation, a small smile working the corners of his mouth. 

 

“And you want me to come work for you so I can give up a job you only just heard about and so you can spend more time with me?” He nodded again.

 

“Alright… well, I suppose there’s only one thing I can do then…” she eyed him up and down for a moment. 

 

“And that would be?” he trailed off, taken by surprise when he suddenly found his arms full of witch. 

 

She kissed him as though everything she’d ever been silent about finally found its way to the surface. She kissed him for all the times she’d seen or felt him looking and ignored it, thinking she must be mad for considering that he may fancy her. She kissed him in thanks for all the late shifts she wouldn’t have to work anymore and for the opportunity he was offering. 

 

“I uh… I take it you fancy me too? And that you’ll take the job?” Fred laughed nervously when she pulled away, lips swollen from their sudden snog. 

 

“That is most definitely a yes… on both counts,” she smiled at him, getting to her feet and reaching for his hand. 

 

“Where are we going?” Fred took her hand followed her out of the room. 

 

“Your old bedroom, my current room… whatever you want to call it… if I’m going to snog you until I pass out from exhaustion I want to do it where your mother won’t find us first thing in the morning…” Hermione giggled as she pulled him along up the stairs, hopping over the squeaky one. He chuckled quietly and followed, giving George the flat for the night had turned out better than he expected. 

 


End file.
